Revealed
June 1960
Performing magic for entertainment, and not for learning, was not something that was required often of the teachers. That was why, over one hour after the seven sisters had disappeared, the students were still discussing it, driving all thought of one unknown witch and one seemingly absent professor out of their minds.
"This is delightfully amusing, Minerva," Dumbledore said as they sat and watched the students whirl around the room. They had not needed to use their wands just yet because the students were apparently distracted enough.
"I marvel at people's minds," he continued. "How, when they are so used to seeing someone a certain way, they accept them as utterly unchangeable so that when you emerged before them with your appearance only slightly altered, they acknowledged you as a wholly different person. Remarkable," he added, impressed.
Minerva, who had at first been as amazed as Dumbledore at the blank faces of the Hogwarts students as they saw her, was now becoming rather impatient. She had less interest for the analysis of human behaviour than Dumbledore did. It was an unusual feeling to not, in some way, have an identity. Though she knew who she was, it is people's reactions to a person that shape their identity as much as a knowledge of yourself. Without those reactions Minerva felt that she had lost part of her grip on control. She wanted to be recognised.
In her silence, Dumbledore had turned to her and was closely examining her features. She looked at him and caught his eye. She was very good at Occlumency, and knew that Dumbledore rarely used his Legilimency skills. However, in that moment, she pushed a rather abridged version of her thoughts to the forefront of her mind and silently requested for him to read them. Eventually he responded.
"As you wish, Minerva. Might I request one thing?" he asked graciously. "It is perhaps not to your taste, but I believe we owe it to the students to be rather… ostentatious." Dumbledore's eyes sparkled eagerly.
Minerva's eyebrow shot up.
-
Once again Minerva was standing near to the staff table at the edge of the dance floor facing the students. She had refused Dumbledore's suggestion of what was to come adamantly at first, but when he threatened her with a far more flamboyant demonstration if she didn't comply, she grudgingly accepted.
Dumbledore stood opposite her at the other end of the hall by the large main doors. He had his wand in his hand and was wearing a rather mischievous smile. He spoke merrily to students who stopped dancing to talk to him and began asking them for their opinion on a particular matter. The student's excited responses were clearly visible from where Minerva stood, and Dumbledore's ecstatic expression confirmed her suspicions.
Word began to spread around the hall that there was going to be a duel. A harmless one, of course; one for the night's entertainment. What the students did not know was who the duel was going to be between. As the rumour spread, the hall began to buzz excitedly and a pathway was made, separating one half of the students from the other.
The students began to watch both ends of the pathway, eagerly awaiting the wizards who will be their entertainment for the night. A great cheer went up as Dumbledore stepped into view at one end. Then, as the hoots and claps receded, the students' heads turned to the opposite end.
It stood empty for a while, and then a heeled shoe of the deepest blue came into view followed by lighter, royal blue robes. The witch, whom not a single student could name, came to a standstill at the end of the pathway. There was an enormous silence in which you could, very realistically, hear a pin drop. The witch looked magnificent. Her ebony hair cascaded over her robes and shone as black as the Hogwarts Lake in the dark of midnight when only the stars were gazing upon it.
After the silence, in which every student in the hall had marvelled at the witch's radiance, there was a sudden eruption of noise. Minerva ignored the whistles that went along with it.
Dumbledore and Minerva stepped forward a few paces; and so fell another deadly silence. Minerva could see the smile on Dumbledore's face as his boyish excitement gleamed through. Her own excitement however, was dampened by thoughts of the unknown finale he was planning. He had promised flamboyance at its smallest degree. This was not a comfort to Minerva. Dumbledore's idea of a small degree of flamboyance was, she was sure, far different from her own.
The gap between them was at least thirty feet when they came to a halt. Minerva saw Dumbledore put his palm to his chest and incline his head unhurriedly. She clenched her teeth together tightly and bowed back. The students held their breath and the tension in the air was on the verge of cracking like a sheet of glass.
The first flash of light zoomed so quickly across the Great Hall that it rustled the dress robes of the students gathered around. It was as if she was in slow motion. The spell was too fast for Minerva to block so her back twisted backwards and to her right. Dumbledore's spell whizzed past her only inches away from her chest. As Minerva began to rise she sent a spell shooting out of the end of her wand in a flash of gold.
Dumbledore was ready. He blocked it, but only just. Minerva was straight-backed once again with her wand at the ready. The students, she suddenly noticed, were cheering with energy and the atmosphere began to stir something of a thrill inside Minerva.
The students watched on as the witch and wizard began to duel faster than anything they had ever seen. Dumbledore's and the witch's hair was flying out around them as they moved with the movements of the battle, but their faces were always composed and their concentration was immense and never wavered. It seemed as though nothing could distract them. The young witches and wizards surrounding them watched in amazement as the unknown witch fought on against their Headmaster, the most powerful wizard of the age. Even tiny Professor Flitwick stood in awe as the witch blocked and avoided spells that were too fast for most of them to see.
Minerva was tiring, and she could see that Dumbledore was too. They had been throwing spells at each other for several minutes and Minerva knew that Dumbledore was building up the excitement on purpose. It would have been a much shorter duel if he was using his full powers. As it happened, he was indulging himself in a friendly duel that a lesser witch than Minerva would have found unmanageable.
Dumbledore hurled a flash of bright purple at Minerva which she blocked with difficulty. The battle was becoming harder. She fired back a blazing blue spell towards him, which he narrowly avoided and then, as suddenly as a flash from a wand tip, the room became quiet. Dumbledore had not returned her spell. Minerva was breathing fast, holding up her wand ready to block whatever he shot at her.
But it didn't come. Dumbledore stood there, breathing as fast as she was, waiting. Minerva's brow furrowed, but she didn't wait. Her wand arm swung round and shot forward. An intense red blaze exploded out of the end of her wand. This, apparently, was what Dumbledore had been waiting for. He moved so quickly that Minerva barely saw it. He aimed his own spell at the red flash of Minerva's which was rocketing through the air.
She knew he had used more of his power this time. The two spells came hurtling back to her in less than a second. They hit her full force in the chest and she was propelled backward several feet. The spells helped slow her, however, and held her up until she came to a halt. In fact, they held her up so much that she was now hovering several inches off the ground and had become enveloped in a gauzy red mist.
The students gasped as they saw the witch suspended in midair before them. The witch however, had a face of utter calm.
Minerva now knew what Dumbledore had been planning. Her hair and robes had been caught in a rush of air within the spell that surrounded her, and her skin was glowing pink from the red mist around her. She looked up and glared severely at Dumbledore. If this was his idea of a barely flamboyant finale then he was very much mistaken. He stood before her, watching as evenly as if this was an event that happened everyday.
Out of the corner of her eye, Minerva saw the student's faces watching her. Some were shocked, some confused, some frightened, but mostly they were excited. This was Dumbledore's spell after all; what could be harmful about it?
Slowly and very steadily, Minerva felt her body begin to rotate. Then it spun faster. Then faster still. The room and the people within it became a blur as she spun. There was nothing dizzying about this spinning. The effects of Dumbledore's spell had seen to that.
The students watched on with great excitement. Some looked at Dumbledore and saw him beaming at the witch spinning mere feet away from them all. He flicked his wand and the witch started to move steadily to the centre of the Hall. The students crowded round and followed behind her, blocking her end of the pathway as they closed in.
As they followed, they noticed the witch begin to change. She was spinning slower now and the students could see her features more clearly. Her robes were still swirling around her but her hair was doing something different. It had come together in a single mass of black and was settling high on her head. The students looked upon the witch in silent amazement.
Dumbledore flicked his wand again.
Something else was happening, the students saw. Above the witch's head a new object had come into being and was rotating at the same speed as the witch.
Disbelieving gasps could be heard from the students closest to the witch. A distinctive, "No – way!" resounded around the Great Hall.
The witch began to slow. The red mist began to diminish. The dark blue shoes softly hit the flagstones of the Great Hall as the witch was lowered. The object above the witch dropped steadily and settled on the tip of her nose.
"It's McGonagall!" An amazed whispering rushed around the Great Hall like a breeze. "It's McGonagall." "It's McGonagall!" "I don't believe it!" "It's McGonagall!"
Minerva had finally settled on the ground and was back to her normal non-glowing self. She looked silently upon the gaping students before her. Her lips thinned and her nostrils flared.
"Unless you are planning on falling over yourself, Mr. Prewitt," Minerva began sharply, "I suggest you tie up your shoelaces."
TBC